


Adventures in Babysitting

by goldensnitch18



Series: Oblivious Daydreaming [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldensnitch18/pseuds/goldensnitch18
Summary: Draco doesn’t particularly like children, but when his mother is finally happy again, he will do anything to keep her that way, even babysitting his three-year-old cousin. When things go awry, he calls on the only person he can think of for help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Beta Magic: Many thanks to Emeraudedeux and LadyParongsny for working your magic on this one shot. I greatly appreciate your time and effort in making it more beautiful for my dear friend Sarah. All my love. Xoxoxo
> 
> Dedication: To my beautiful friend, my love, my beta, one of the few people I must talk to every day to feel like everything is right in the world, Happy Birthday, my dear. You are a goddess, a cheerleader, and a friend without measure. Thank you for being one of my rocks, for talking me off cliffs, making me a better writer, and, mostly, for making me laugh. I love you, so this one is for you RooOJoy. I hope that you enjoy this story and your day. XOXOXO

Draco hated these damn things. His mother had never made him attend parties for three-year-old’s before the war. It was ridiculous. The cake and the screaming and the damn company. It was too bloody much. It was great for his mother that she had rekindled a tentative friendship with her sister. He was happy for her, really, but did that mean he had to attend this loud, sticky, mess of an event?

 

“DRACO!” The birthday boy himself came careening around the corner into the kitchen. His hair shifted from pink to blue as his cake laced fingers gripped Draco’s sweater. The boy said his name with a K, and it drove him absolutely crazy. 

 

“What do you want?” he asked, his nose turning up while the bits of green frosting seemed to permanently adhere to him. 

 

“I’m this many now!” the boy told him excitedly as he held up three awkward fingers. 

 

“Yes, I know that,” Draco said tersely. “That is why they made me come here.” 

 

“Will you come play Quidditch with me? Uncle Harry says he can best you, but I don’t believe it, Draco! You are the best flyer. I told him.” As the boy looked up at him with expectant eyes, Draco heard a soft snort beside him. He turned his head to glare at the woman hiding in the corner of the room, her nose in a book, of course. 

 

“Teddy, I think Granger wants to play Quidditch. She is the best flyer, clearly.” 

 

Hermione let her book fall down to her chest and flared back at the blonde boy. “ _ Malfoy, _ ” she warned. 

 

“Yes, Herminny! Yes, come play quidditch with us! Auntie Ginny is playing!” 

 

“Yes,” Draco agreed. “His Auntie is playing, Hermione. Surely you want to play now.” He smirked at her, and she glared harder. 

 

“Please, Herminny,” the boy begged. 

 

“You're going to break the boy’s heart,” Draco told her as he tried to look innocent and failed miserably. “It’s his birthday.” 

 

“Yes!” Teddy said as if he had just remembered. He showed them his fingers again, struggling to keep his pinky down with his thumb. “I’m this many!” 

 

Hermione smiled softly at him and turned her body towards the boy. “I tell you what, Teddy. Quidditch isn’t really something I like to do, but I would love to take you to the bookstore this week. Quincy Dragon is going to be there for a reading on Thursday morning. Would you like that?” The boy's eyes grew wide at the mention of the book character. 

 

“He’s my favorite!” 

 

“Mine too,” Hermione confessed, her eyes sparkling with delight. Draco believed her. 

 

“Can we really go see him?” he asked in amazement. 

 

“We will. I will talk to grandma before we leave today, okay?” 

 

“Okay!” he shouted. Then, Teddy was running again, away from the pair, his Quidditch recruitment forgotten. 

 

Hermione reached out a hand and playfully smacked Draco’s shoulder. “You prat,” she declared. “Trying to get  _ me _ on a broom?!” 

 

“I would pay good money to see you on a broom,” Draco told her as he laughed and imagined the sight. 

 

“You’re terrible. Why didn’t you just go play Quidditch with him?” 

 

“You heard him, his Uncle Harry would have lost and his massive ego broken.” 

 

“Oh, Harry is the one with the massive ego now?” Hermione snorted softly again. 

 

“Besides,” Draco continued, “that boy is too loud and sticky for anyone’s good.” 

 

“Teddy?” Hermione asked, a smile on her face. “He clearly adores you.” 

 

“He is terrible. All children are terrible.” 

 

“They  _ are _ generally loud and sticky, but they are fun and innocent, and you just have to know how to handle them,” she insisted. 

 

“Oh, so you’re a child rearing professional now?” he asked, his eyebrow raised. 

 

“No, of course not. I work in Magical Creatures,” she told him. At first he thought she was serious, but then the corner of her mouth turned up in a grin. 

 

“Oh, Granger.” He shook his head at her. It still amazed him that the pair of them could sit here and have a civil conversation. So much had changed since the war. They had both gone back to Hogwarts. He had been required, and she had chosen it. When his father had gone to Azkaban, his mother had been shattered and alone. This had led her to reached out to the only family she had left - her sister. Draco had been broken and lost, and Hermione had become a friend to him in a time when no one else wanted to acknowledge his existence. 

 

“DRACO!” he heard again. The boy was back. “COME ON!” he bellowed. 

 

“You better go,” Granger laughed, and Draco begrudgingly rose from his chair.  

 

XXX

 

Draco was going to murder his own mother. There was no getting around it. The blasted woman had gone to the theatre with her sister. Harry bloody Potter was supposed to watch the boy, but he had apparently been called out of town urgently for work, and his wife was out of the country for a match. Draco had been sure it couldn’t be very difficult to deal with the child, but now he was fairly certain he would rather face dark wizards than this tiny tyrant. 

 

Teddy had absolutely lost his mind. Draco had told him that he needed to eat his dinner before he had any pudding, and it was as if a blast-ended skrewt had taken over his body. Gone was the fun, laughing blue-haired little boy who made him read Quincy Dragon and the Bewitched Carpet fifteen times. He had been replaced by clenched fists and shrieking, and his hair had turned a brilliant orange and red. “NO!” he shouted again. “I won’t! I want pudding now!” 

 

Draco tried to reason with the boy, but he just seemed to get angrier. He began throwing things and knocked over his cup, pouring juice all over the table. “I’m not your friend, Draco!” he shouted, and Draco just stared at him, bewildered, watching the tantrum erupt and grow larger. The boy stood, stomping on his chair. He lifted a piece of chicken from his plate and threw it at the ground. “Grandma would give me pudding,” he screamed, and if the boy’s face wasn’t turning a light shade of purple, this probably would have made Draco laugh. Andromeda Tonks wouldn’t give a grown man pudding before he finished his vegetables. 

 

“Teddy, you need to sit down and eat,” Draco insisted firmly. 

 

“Not until you give me pudding!” He reached down and grabbed his spoon. By the time Draco realized what he was going to do with it, but it was too late. The gooey applesauce smacked him square in the chest.

 

“No!” Draco chided, “We do not throw food at Draco!” Teddy just laughed and reached down for more food. Draco ran. He slammed the door to the kitchen shut and moved straight for the Floo.

 

XXX

 

“He’s a little dictator,” Draco declared, two hours later. 

 

“All three-year-olds are,” Hermione insisted. 

 

“He must be the worst,” the blond moaned. 

 

“Not even close,” she laughed and shook her head. “My cousin’s daughter is much, much worse.” She shivered, apparently put off at the thought of the girl.

 

There was a long pause where neither one of them said anything. They just sat on the sofa and faced one another. She had her legs bent in front of her, her bare feet pointed at him, and he looked down at her toes. They wiggled as she followed his gaze to her yellow polish. “Thank you,” he said finally, “for coming over.” 

 

“No problem. I like being around Teddy,” she smiled softly, and he grunted. 

 

“I’m going to tell my mother to get a goblin to watch him next time she gets a crazy idea like this in her head.” 

 

“It was nice of you to agree at the last minute,” Hermione told him. The way she looked at him made him feel odd. It seemed that she could see much more of him than he was comfortable revealing. She often made him feel that way. 

 

“She doesn’t really do much. She, uh, she still struggles with my dad being, well …” He trailed off. She didn’t need to know the details of how his mother still woke up screaming for Lucius in the middle of the night, or how she cried as he held her while she sobbed about how terrible that place was. It didn’t happen as much now that he had moved out, but occasionally it was still so bad that her elf would show up at his flat looking for him. 

 

“Do you?” Hermione asked, her voice soft. 

 

“Not particularly.” He forced the words out past a sharp lump in his throat. His father was not a subject that Draco loved to discuss. His feelings about the man were complicated at best. 

 

“Oh, okay.” She wrapped her arms around her legs and leaned forward. They fell into silence again, and he tried to come up with something to say to her. Each idea that floated through his brain seemed dumber than the last. He finally settled on asking her about her job when his mother stepped into the room, followed by her sister. 

 

“You have a guest,” Narcissa said as she smiled at Hermione. 

 

“I should go.” Hermione moved to stand quickly, and he followed her. 

 

“Yeah, me too.” His mother gave him a questioning look as Hermione passed her. 

 

He ignored her and headed for the door. 

 

XXX

 

Two weeks later, his mother had him over for tea. She had been talking about how nice the show was and how lovely it had been to get out of the house. His mother was so happy that she and Andromeda seemed to be really getting as close as they once were so long ago before she had been forbidden from speaking to her any more. It had taken so much work, but they were finally friends again. As Draco had watched as her eyes lit up and her smile broadened, he hadn’t been able to stop his fat mouth from telling her that he would watch Teddy anytime the pair of them wanted to go out. He was happy that she was so happy. 

 

His mother had cashed in on that offer exactly one week later. On Saturday afternoon, she was going to take Andromeda to get some lunch and see a new sculpture art exhibit featuring famous witches throughout history. Andromeda had the boy eating lunch when he arrived. 

 

“He’s nearly finished, Draco,” Andromeda told him quietly. Draco was thankful for that, and hopefully that would mean that he wouldn’t get chicken chucked at him again. “Just put him down for his nap after.” That sounded easy enough to Draco. He was quite looking forward to reading his book while the boy slept. 

 

Teddy finished his lunch shortly after the two women finally left the house, and Draco washed his plate in the sink and put it in the rack to dry. “Can we play Quidditch?” Teddy asked as he waited for Draco to dry his hands. 

 

“Not right now,” Draco told him. “We’re going to take a nap first.” The words slipped out of his mouth without a care in the world, and he was immediately made to regret them. 

 

Teddy crossed his arms, pushed his bottom lip out, and said, “I don’t need a nap. I’m three-years-old now.” 

 

“Your grandma said you need a nap, Teddy,” Draco told him. 

 

“Grandma doesn’t make me take naps. She _ doesn’t _ ,” Teddy demanded. 

 

“That isn’t true,” Draco crossed his own arms. “Let’s go to bed.” 

 

“It is true!” The boy shouted. “It is!” Teddy stomped his foot hard and when he smiled, Draco knew he was in trouble. “Catch me,” he told Draco, and then he was running. Draco considered chasing the boy for about half a second and then decided that seemed like too much work.

 

XXX

 

“So … they convinced you to watch him again?” Hermione asked. She was sitting on the back stoop. Draco sat beside her, leaning against the rail. 

 

“Yes. Those awful old women,” he grumbled. 

 

“It’s good that they have each other again,” she insisted. 

 

“Yeah, well, maybe they should find someone who likes kids to watch this little monster.” Hermione laughed at him then, and he looked over at her. He wasn’t sure he really minded when she was the one laughing at him. Several strands of her hair had fallen loose from her bun while she had been lying with Teddy. She had read to the boy again, stretched out beside him on the bed, and then sang some Muggle rhymes he hadn’t known. 

 

It was interesting to watch her with him. Draco clearly had no idea how to deal with Teddy, but Hermione seemed to always find some way of making him think everything was his idea. He wanted to pick out a book. He wanted to sit in bed while she read. He would be more comfortable with his head on the pillow. He would like to sing a soft song. He would like to rest his eyes just a bit, and then he was out; Draco was left to marvel over her. 

 

“You seem to have found a good system,” she joked. “You make him angry, and then you Floo me.” 

 

“It works for me,” he told her. She shifted her body, turning towards him, her thigh pressed against his. He looked up at her face, and she watched him carefully as she bit her lip. “What?” he asked. 

 

“Why?” she asked softly. 

 

“What do you mean?” He was sure he knew what she was asking, but he didn’t know if he wanted to answer. 

 

“Why did you Floo me? The other time and today?” She pushed one of those strands back behind her ear, and he would have sworn a blush followed her hand up her cheek. 

 

“I, well, I guess you were the first person I thought of,” he said, not sure if she would think that was good or not. 

 

“Oh.” She nodded and looked out at the yard. 

 

She looked disappointed, and suddenly, he knew he needed to say something else. “I like talking to you,” he blurted without thought. 

 

Hermione turned to face him again, surprised. “You do?” 

 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I wanted a reason to talk to you again.” 

 

“You could have just asked me to lunch,” she said. 

 

“Yeah, I guess,” he agreed, feeling like that may have been the more logical solution. 

 

“Or dinner,” she leaned in closer then, and her eyes seemed to sparkle like they had when she was talking about Quincy Dragon at the birthday party. They were rather pretty when they sparkled. 

 

“Like a date?” he asked and sounded utterly stupid. 

 

“That would be nice,” she whispered, her lips a breath away from his. His fingertips trailed the path up her arm to rest at her neck, and he rubbed a circle into her skin with his thumb. She smiled softly at the sensation as he closed the small gap between them. Hermione’s lips were warm and gentle against his. She reached her own hand into his hair as she deepened their kiss, her tongue running along his lips. He made some variety of embarrassing noises as their chests touched, and he was pulling her closer with a hand at her waist. 

 

“Hello,” his mother’s voice said, and Draco jumped back, moving away from Hermione as quickly as possible. His mother and Andromeda were both standing in the garden. They smiled up at him and Hermione without even the decency of a single ounce of shame for interrupting. 

 

“Uh …” 

 

“Are we intruding?” Andromeda asked them, her brow raised. 

 

“No, of course not,” Hermione began, standing quickly to make room for the women to pass them. Draco followed her lead, stepping up onto the porch. His mother smirked as she walked by him, and he glared in response. “I’m going to go,” Hermione told him after both women were behind a closed door. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he insisted. 

 

“It’s okay.” She smiled and glanced up at the door before she closed the space between them. Her lips met his in a hard, passionate kiss, and his hands had barely reached her waist before she pulled back. “Next time you Floo, you better buy me dinner,” she said, and then she was gone. 

 

XXX   
  


Weasley answered the door when Draco knocked on Friday night. The taller, red-headed man glared down at him with disdain. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded. 

 

“What?” Draco asked. 

 

“Why are you taking her out?” Ron crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. 

 

“She wants me to,” Draco told him. He wasn’t too concerned about Weasley’s disappointment. He, and the entire world, had watched the pair struggle through six months of a very publicized relationship. They had been eighteen years old and stalked at every moment. Each date they went on, each walk they took, each event they attended, was photographed and picked apart. In the end, it had been too much. He had thought at the time that the pressure was the problem, but the previous year he had learned that it wasn’t truly the case. The Weasley’s had hosted a Christmas party, and, of course, his mother had made him come. He had gravitated to Granger, like he often did at these events. They had been talking about her parent’s holiday to France when Ron had arrived, pulling Oliver Wood behind him by the hand. 

 

Draco hadn’t been sure what to think, but Hermione had quickly answered his questions. Once she had hugged Ron and Oliver tightly, kissing them both on the cheek, they had moved on to greet other family members. Hermione had pushed his jaw up a bit with her finger and laughed. “They’ve been together for nearly a year,” she said. 

 

“Together, like …” 

 

“Yes, Draco, like that,” she had smiled at the pair, her eyes following Oliver. “He’s good for Ron. Oliver’s fairly level headed outside of Quidditch, so he balances Ron out when he loses it.” 

 

“How did that even happen?” Draco had found himself asking. 

 

“Oliver and Ginny played each other in a match just after the holidays. They were both pissed at a party at Harry’s afterwards, and I guess one thing led to another.”

 

“Must have been some shag to move him on to Wood from you,” Draco had concluded without thinking. Hermione had simply laughed and offered to grab him a drink. He’d watched her arse as she walked away and continued to wonder why a bloke would want another bloke when he could have  _ that _ body to devour. 

 

“Malfoy,” Weasley was waving his hand at him. Draco started, realizing that he had gotten lost in the memory of Hermione’s backside. He shook his head, and grumbled something indistinct. 

 

“Where is Hermione, anyway?” he asked. 

 

“She’s finishing up. For some reason, she seems to want to impress you.” Draco was sure that Weasley had meant it as an insult, but he wasn’t going to take it as one. Hermione wanting to impress him was surely a good sign. 

 

Suddenly, Hermione was behind Ron, her hand on his elbow. “Ron, stop being an idiot. Go home.” 

 

“I could wait here. Make sure you get home alright,” the taller man offered. 

 

Draco was glad when Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “Go home, Ron.” 

 

She stared at him until he finally sighed. “I’ll be at home if you need me.” With one last glare at Draco, he spun and disappeared with a crack. 

 

Hermione grabbed Draco’s hand in hers, pulling him inside. She was wearing a dark blue dress and a black cardigan. Her hair was up again, somehow wrangled into ties and pins atop her head. He was sure she must use some sort of magic to achieve that. 

 

“You look beautiful,” he told her. Her lips curved into a soft grin. 

 

“Thank you.” She closed the space between them and grabbed his tie. “You look nice, too.” He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that demanded he hold her tightly against him. Hermione clenched his shirt in her fingers, and he was tempted to keep holding her, reservation be damned. 

 

Instead, he pulled back slowly. “We should get going,” His voice sounded heavy in his own ears. 

 

“I suppose we must,” Hermione agreed.  

 

XXX

 

Draco had fallen hard. 

 

Well, he supposed the fall had been slow -  _ deliriously _ so. He had been falling for years without realizing it. She had forgiven him first, made the most effort in the beginning. She had befriended him, pulling him in with her books and her kind words. He had stopped hating his mother for dragging him along to every bloody thing nearly as soon as it had happened. He would never admit it to anyone, not even her, but by the time they had sat together on the sofa at Teddy’s party, he had been determined to find a way to kiss her. 

 

His mother had given him a reason. She had given him that terrible, terrible three-year-old, and Draco had used him. He wouldn’t admit that either, but Teddy had given him the perfect excuse to spend more time with her. She had been all too willing to come help him, though, so surely she was to blame as well. She had been so good with Teddy. She had enchanted him even further, and when she leaned in on the stoop, there was no turning back. Draco had fallen slow and hit the pavement hard and fast. He was lost in her. It had only been a few months, and he was utterly consumed by Hermione Granger. 

 

Tonight was their six month anniversary. He had made reservations at the same restaurant they had gone to on their first date. He had even requested the same waiter and taken off work early to get ready. He was hoping to be able to surprise her with the evening, but he was quickly learning that she was not a witch that was easy to pull one over on. She seemed to know his very thoughts before he thought them. He’d stopped by her office before he had left the Ministry. He had kissed her softly and told her that he might be late. He would pick up dinner tonight, and she shouldn’t worry about planning anything. She had frowned and told him that his boss could surely spare him for one evening. It was a special night, and he had feigned his annoyance with the man as well. She had sighed softly, conceding that they could still have their special evening, just be a little later, and he headed straight for the exit to go home.

 

When he arrived, he loosened his tie and lifted it off over his head. He pulled his robes down his arms as he walked through his flat to his bedroom and then stopped. Sitting on the floor in a heap was Hermione’s robes. The robes she had just been wearing at work. He frowned down at them, but began walking again. As he moved closer to his room, he discovered her dress on a chair and her bra on the handle of his door. He turned the knob and pushed the door open. She was lying on his bed in her heels and knickers, one of his old school ties resting between her breasts. Her hair was loose and wild around her face as she bit her bottom lip. “I thought you had to work late,” she smirked. 

 

“You.” He stepped forward, throwing his robes on the ground. “Are.” He pulled at his shirt. “An.” The shirt fell to the ground. “Insufferable.” His belt came undone. “Know it all.” He pushed his trousers down to the floor and kicked his shoes off. He reached the bed and climbed onto it. His hand reached for one perfect leg, and he felt her soft skin beneath his fingers as he moved over her. He kissed his way up her body, relishing in her beauty. 

 

“And  _ you _ are a sneaking, conniving Slytherin,” she retorted. “Lying to me!” 

 

“I was trying to surprise you,” he insisted. 

 

“And so was I,” Hermione retorted. “Plus, my surprise is better,” she insisted, and he had to agree, but he didn’t have to tell her that. Instead, he leaned down to suckle at one perfect breast. She moaned softly, her nearly bare body arching into him. The feel of her skin against his made him crazy. The silk of his tie seemed to be a barrier, but it was one that he was not planning to remove. The sight of her in that green and silver made his hardness twitch in anticipation. 

 

His tongue swirled circles against her skin as he moved down to her knickers. They were a lacy black pair that he was fairly certain he’d never seen before. “Are these new?” He grinned up at her, and she blushed. He loved that after six months in his bed, he could still bring that rose to her cheeks. 

 

“I bought them this weekend.” 

 

“I love them,” he told her. He dipped his attention back down to the hem, gripping it in his teeth. She squirmed beneath him as his fingers pulled at the sides of the cloth, and he began to slide it down her skin. He growled as her core was revealed to him, waiting for him to devour it. He moved more quickly then, pulling back onto his knees to remove her knickers over her heels. 

 

As soon as they were gone, Hermione rolled onto her hands and knees and crawled towards him. “Take off your pants,” she told him. 

 

He frowned at her. “I wanted to-” 

 

“Take them off,” she cut into his words, and he obeyed. He pushed them down his legs and tossed them off the bed. 

 

“Lay down,” she said, her tone even and controlled. 

 

“What are you-” 

 

“Draco, just lay down,” she said exasperated. “Let me be in charge for once. This is  _ my _ surprise.” He snorted at her annoyance, but did as she had asked and readjusted on the bed so that he could lay down. Hermione kneeled beside him and ran her thumb along his lips. He kissed it softly. Her fingertips grazed down his neck, softly curving over his chest and stomach until they finally settled at his hard length beside her. He moaned in appreciation as she slid her hand up and down him. 

 

“Your surprise is very nice,” he told her, reaching to run his hand up her bare thigh and squeeze her bum. 

 

“I know it is.  _ I’m _ not the one trying to ruin it.” Draco chuckled at her, and she smirked at him before leaning her head down. Her tongue darted out to trail lazy circles around his head. His hand froze on her skin, gripping her thigh firmly as he let out a soft noise of approval. Hermione’s hand fell down to the base of his shaft, allowing her to take him deeper in her mouth. The sensation of her, hot and wet around him made him moan openly. 

 

“Fuck, Hermione,” he sighed in appreciation. The things this witch did with her mouth were truly magical. She grinned around him as she slid her mouth up and down, her tongue swirling as she worked. She stopped to tease him every few seconds, licking him softly. He felt his body tensing, his groin tightening, and he pulled at her gently. “Babe, stop.” Hermione pulled back, satisfaction clear on her lips. “You are brilliant,” he told her. 

 

“I know I am,” she assured him, and then she was over him, his tip at her core, and she was teasing him again. She leaned forward to kiss him as she let him slide just barely inside of her, and then she stopped moving. 

 

“You are beautiful and sexy, and I’m the luckiest man alive,” he told her as he pulled at her hips, trying to convince her to move. 

 

“Yes, you are,” she agreed. His hips bucked, but she adjusted for his movement and kept him from burying inside of her. 

 

“Hermione, stop,” he pleaded. 

 

“Say the magic word,” she said softly and then laughed. He knew she couldn’t help it. He didn’t even care that she couldn’t keep a straight face while she teased him. This was his beautiful woman. She was sexy and incredibly awkward about it and he loved every minute. He loved that she was trying to take control, trying to drive him absolutely crazy, and she was very much succeeding. 

 

“Please, for fuck’s sake, please,” he begged, and she slid down on him hard as she pushed up on his chest. The sensation of her was perfection. The image of her above him,  _ in that bloody tie _ , her face full of emotion and satisfaction was even better. She bobbed on him, moving quickly, bouncing her body up and down in a rhythm that made him crazy, pulling him closer and closer to his release. From this angle, it was all too easy for him to move his hand between them, his thumb on the bundle of nerves that made her tremble atop him. 

 

“Draco,” she murmured as she moved, and he loved the sound of his name on her lips. “I’m, oh …” And then she was shuddering uncontrollably. He pulled her down to the bed, kissing her hard through the waves. When she was done, looking up at him with wide, satisfied eyes, he began to move, sliding inside of her again. He pumped quick and steady, his own release beginning after three short movements. She dug her nails into his back as he clenched his eyes shut and emptied inside of her. 

 

“Fuck,” he said again, rolling to his side. “You are amazing. I love you.” The words slid out easily, and somewhere in his mind,he knew that he should be nervous. He probably shouldn’t have said them after this, but he didn’t care. 

 

“I love you, too,” she told him, and that voice instantly vanished. 

  
XXX

 

It was Teddy’s birthday again. They were there together on the sofa. She had her legs over his, and they were watching Teddy chase Victoire around the room. She had stolen the Viktor Krum doll that Ron had bought Teddy. The man had smirked at Draco as soon as the boy had opened it. Draco had glared back pointedly, unamused. They had run into Viktor at a game Harry, Ginny, Ron, Oliver, and Draco had drug Hermione to just last month, and Draco had not been amused by the way the man had held onto Hermione or the way his eyes drank her in. Ron had spent the rest of the night laughing about it. 

 

Draco leaned over towards her, and Hermione met his lips with a sweet, soft kiss. He still had a hard time believing that this was his life now. He was in love with this woman, this brilliant, beautiful, muggleborn. “Let’s take a walk,” he suggested when the party had all but ended. The stragglers were close family who had shifted from celebrating Teddy to catching up. They wouldn’t be missed. 

 

“Okay.” Hermione let him take her hand, and he led her out the door into the garden. They walked the stone path as they refused to let go of each other. When they reached the shed, Draco moved off the path to walk around the back where they wouldn’t been seen from the house. He kissed her hard and she clung to him tightly. She let him push her back up against the shed as his hands roamed the skin under her shirt. His lips moved from hers to brush lightly against the sensitive skin below her ear. “You look so bloody good in this skirt.” 

 

“Draco, this is Teddy’s birthday party,” she reminded him. 

 

“I don’t care. It’s basically over. Besides, you shouldn’t have worn that damn skirt. You know what it does to me.” 

 

“Maybe I wore it on purpose,” she suggested, her eyes dancing with mischief. 

 

“You little minx,” he growled. 

 

“You love me,” she replied. 

 

“So much. I can’t wait to get you home and rip this damn thing off of you,” Draco told her. She moaned at the suggestion and pushed her hips back against him. “Fuck,” he whispered harshly in her ear. “We’re going to have to celebrate up against the door, and on the counter, and the floor, and the sofa, and maybe, eventually, we will make it to the bed.” He kissed her with every new suggestion. 

 

“Celebrate what?” she asked, her voice husky. 

 

“We will have to practice for making our own little terrors that will need to have annoying birthday parties which you will no doubt insist I attend.” 

 

“What?” Hermione’s voice was serious now, her shock apparent. They had never talked about this. She had hinted, tried to determine if he wanted children, but he always joked his way out of the topic by poking fun at their many, many experiences babysitting Teddy. 

 

“If you’re going to be my wife, we will have to have at least two of the horrible things. How could we deny the world such beautiful specimens? My good looks and your brains?” He pulled back just enough to see her face. Her mouth had fallen open, and her eyes were wide. 

 

“Your... what?” she finally sputtered. 

 

“My wife, of course.” Draco repeated as he reached into his pocket, grabbing the loose ring waiting within. 

 

“Oh my ...” Hermione watched his movement carefully, following the small circle as he moved it closer to her hand. 

 

His other hand cupped her chin, pulling her face up to look at him. “Marry me,” he said as he held her gaze. 

 

“Yes,” she replied as she felt the band slide down her finger, magically adjusting to her hand. 

 

“I love you,” he whispered, moving his lips back to her ear. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pulled him against her as she cried softly. 

 

“I love you, too,” she choked out. 

 

They stood there, against the shed, hiding, kissing softly, memorizing the moment for a long time. When Draco leaned in to whisper in her ear one last time,he felt her relax again. “I finally surprised you. I’m totally in charge tonight,” he told her, his hand snaking up her thigh. 

  
“Oh, Draco,” she grumbled, slapping him away. She marched off back towards their friends and family, grinning as she heard him race to catch up behind her. 


End file.
